Make It Together
by TeyrianTimelord
Summary: Pogue is having troubles with Use as he comes closer to his ascension. However, the Sons and Tarja are not going to let him go through it alone. T for some language. References to House of Night series. PoguexOC if you squint.


**I figured that after my Ipod Shuffle challenge, I'd elaborate on one of the ideas that came up, and create a better picture of my overall character setting in the Covenant universe. This time, I actually spent unpressured time on it to make it tolerable! Enjoy!**

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Make It Together

Pogue dropped his head into his hands as Tarja dropped yet another stack books on their table. The library was practically empty, save for a few other students frantically cramming for pop tests or scribbling last minute homework. He desperately wanted to be one of them and procrastinate studying until the night before this huge thing was due. _But no, apparently I'm too far behind and need to be up at an ungodly hour for extra credit…_

"Quit you bitching and crack a book," Tarja snapped with a laugh, lightly smacking him with her folder.

"I wasn't bitching," he grumbled.

She scoffed. "Whatever. You weren't bitching out loud, but it's pretty obvious you're not happy to be here. Get to work."

He shot her a sharp glare through his fingers.

"What was your first clue, Sherlock?"

She only responded by raising a single eyebrow and opening her own textbook. He knew she'd make him sit in that chair to finish his sociology project if it killed them both. Her bizarre obsession with his grades was usually helpful, as she was always willing to tutor him in rough subjects or help him study, but now he kind of wished the building would catch fire or something to get him out of it.

"God damn it, Pogue!" Tarja suddenly hissed.

He looked up to see her frantically swatting at the corner of her homework file in a quick motion to snuff out a small flame that had sprang up on the paper.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!" he apologized in a flustered mess as he Used to put it out and restore the missing pieces.

Tarja gave him a piercing stare.

"That's the third time this week your Power has taken over without your control. You told me you were getting a grip on it!"

"Well, yeah, kind of."

The lie was weak, and he could tell by her demeanor that she knew it as well as he did. As he got closer to his ascension Use was becoming more of a problem. The Power would link with his thoughts without his willing of it, and when he was lucky enough to catch it before it happened resistance was met with a splitting headache. Caleb had called back to Ipswich for Gorman to search the records for anything like it in past Covenant members. Apparently struggle in the weeks before reaching full potential was a common recurrence among Pogue and Reid's ancestors. It made sense for the Garwins, who usually died young from too much, but the Parrys were notably responsible with Use, usually living until their sixties. The fact that Pogue was having so much trouble keeping a hold on his outbursts was concerning for everyone, and especially for Tarja. If Anastasia knew he wasn't in complete control, she would send him home without a second thought. He was no use to her or her job of keeping Tarja safe if he himself was a threat.

Tarja sighed and reached across the table to put a comforting hand on his arm.

"You know I'm not going to tell anyone about this," she crooned just above a whisper. "I'm here for you in any way I can help."

He let out an anxious laugh.

"I wish you could. My Power is different from yours. You come of age and you have a whole community of priestesses there to support you, and you're being trained to control it. We don't have that luxury, and our Power kills us."

"I know that," she insisted. "And I know that you have very devoted friends who are willing to see you through your ascension."

Pogue laughed again, only this time silently. Typical Tarja. She either forgot that Anastasia had brought the Sons to Tulsa to protect her, or chose to ignore it. So far, she had done more for them than vice versa.

"I'm fine," he finally said with a fake smile. "Come on, I need help with this paragraph on-"

He stopped short as a hot pain shot through his entire body. His vision blurred red and the world began to spin. Every ounce of his blood felt as if it was burning with molten iron clawing through his veins and resonating from his head. Pogue was hyperaware of the Power being determined to make him eat his words, and that every set of eyes in the library was honed on him, and a desperate urge to destroy them all.

Metallic blood fell over his tongue as Pogue bit down on his lip to keep from screaming. He heard Tarja yelling at another person to find Caleb, and then felt her hands encompass his face.

"You have to fight it, Pogue. Fight it."

"I'm… trying…" he gasped through blasts of agony.

"Then stop trying and do it! I know you're stronger than this thing. You have the choice to control it, or let it control you. Now make your decision!"

She was screaming now, or at least seemed to be to Pogue's frying senses, and his sight was beginning to go dark. He lost track of time, but realized that Caleb, Reid, and Tyler had come running when the student messenger had reached them. Caleb was frantically discussing something with Tarja, all beyond Pogue's quickly fading cognitive abilities.

In what may have been a few seconds or several hours, Pogue felt a coolness brush over his forehead, wiping away some of the burning rage of his Power fit. He recognized that touch as Tarja's, but the essence was Ipswich magic. He opened his eyes to find himself lying on his back on the library floor with his brothers and friend all looking down on him with their faces plastered in concern and fear. As he guess, Tarja was running her fingers over his skin in the strange patterns she called "energy acupuncture" while Caleb fed her with his own Power. Slowly but surely, the fire drained out of his system until he felt something that resembled normal again.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Tyler said in relief to see Pogue's eyes soften to the loss of pain.

"You had us seriously scared for a while there," Caleb confirmed. "Almost thought you were ascending early or something crazy like that."

"Yeah, and it would be just like you to do it in the middle of a school library," Reid smirked, but despite the can't-give-less-of-a-shit air couldn't hide his own worry.

Pogue sat up and rubbed his head, eyeing each of his companions in turn. What if he did ascend early? Was that even possible? What kind of strength did that entail to make it through? It wasn't unheard of for a Covenant member to be killed by the Power during ascension. For the very first time since his father first told him about the process ten years ago, he was honestly afraid. This was supposed to be Reid, not him! He was supposed to be as strong as Caleb, to be the guardian Tarja would need when she prepared for becoming Lady of the Lake, to live long enough to go back home and watch his son grow up with his brothers for another generation of the Sons of Ipswich. But the possibility of that all being at risk of falling away was somberly close.

"I'm scared too," he admitted, clenching his hands into fists.

"That's okay," Caleb said in his leadership voice he brought out only when he was serious about his brothers.

"Because we'll all make it together," Tarja added, and clasped his hand in hers.

_Together…_

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